The Healing in the Hiatus
by Anteater
Summary: Sequel to 'The Battle in the Booth.' Now that Booth and Brennan have made their decision, do they decide to be partners again? Or do five months of separation and different opportunities end their partnership forever? Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So I usually don't write sequels but your reviews for 'The Battle in the Booth' inspired me. Thanks for all the support and I hope you enjoy. Again, if you feel so inclined, please leave a review :)

Disclaimer: I don't own the serenity prayer and the twelve steps belong to Alcoholics Anonymous. I also don't own BONES, just in case you were wondering.

Chapter 1

Month 1: The Steps in the Special Agent

"Hi, my name is Seeley and I am addicted to gambling."

A chorus of 'hi, Seeley' answered him back from the eight members of the group. He had gotten to know these people really well over the last three weeks as he'd been coming to these meetings everyday during his lunch hour. This time, he was a little late and so he was the last one to introduce himself with the customary greeting. Shrugging off his suit jacket, a little hot from his hurried run to get over here after his morning meeting ran late, he waited for Paul, who was running the group today, to announce the topic for today's meeting.

"So, now that everyone is here, let's begin," Paul started.

Booth bowed his head and with everyone in the group recited the serenity prayer.

"G-d grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference."

A moment of silence was observed before Paul started again.

"Last week, we were talking about how some of our members have decided to go through the steps again from the beginning to see what they have learned since the last time they worked through the steps. We also have some new members that are working their program for the first time. Seeley, since you were the last one here today, why don't you start the discussion?"

"Um, sure," Booth replied, sitting up and little straighter in his chair before addressing the people gathered in a small circle in the middle of a church basement. "Right now, I am on the third step and I have been thinking-"

"Would you mind repeating what that step is again?" asked Sue, one of the new members of the group. Booth gave her an understanding smile, knowing how scary it could be to start coming to these meetings for the first time.

"Of course, sorry about that. The third step is to 'make a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of G-d as we understand Him,'" he paused for a minute to gather his thoughts before continuing. He wasn't sure what he was expecting from the meeting today but he didn't know it was going to be this involved emotionally. Of course, he knew what he was getting in to when he decided to do this again and he steeled himself, knowing that all of this was necessary to be the man that his son and his partner deserved again.

"The first time I worked the steps and worked the program, I was pretty young and still pretty lost in my addiction. I had just started a new phase of my job and was still pretty closed off to other options. I pretty much ignored the last part of the statement, the 'as we understood Him' part," Booth told the group, remembering the first time he read that part of the third step.

_The rain outside had not stopped pounding all day long, which Booth didn't really mind. Actually, the rain reminded him of a night about a month ago when he had a tequila induced make out session with a beautiful woman in the doorway of a dive bar. But tonight was different, with the weather gods deciding to throw in some thunder and lightening into the mix as well. And tonight, instead of a beautiful woman in his arms, was his frightened two-year-old son, finally asleep on his chest after being startled by the noise of the weather for the last several hours. _

_Booth couldn't remember the last time he was this tired. What he really wanted to do was curl up in his bed with his son and try and get some rest before the morning came. But he had his fourth meeting tomorrow and he hadn't yet looked at the third step of the twelve steps that Pops had convinced him to try. Sighing, he sat down at his desk with his little boy cradled in his arms, knowing he needed to put the work in on the steps but also not wanting to risk waking his son up again. He needed to keep doing this though; tonight was the first time in seven months that Rebecca had trusted him enough to allow Parker to spend the night with him._

_And that was worth every minute of every meeting he would ever go to._

_Looking at the book he had received at his first meeting, he read the third step and started thinking about what he would journal about it. He personally felt that he had already given his life to G-d, not only when he went through communion but also when he was a sniper, he frequently prayed that G-d would get him home in one piece. And save for the last time when he was a POW for several weeks before coming home, G-d did a pretty good job._

_Slightly shifting Parker in his arms so that he could write something down, he began writing about the times when he was a child when he thought that G-d abandoned him and his little brother to a physically abusive, alcoholic father, about how he prayed and prayed for help when he was in the Iraqi desert, and about how he felt like his prayers had finally been answered in the form of a tow haired little boy._

_But as he wrote, he couldn't help but think about the spitfire forensic anthropologist who had called him 'a superstitious moron.' How could someone not believe in G-d? he wrote down, now more frantically as he thought about the infuriating woman. A whimper from his son stopped him as he stilled for a moment, hoping the boy would not wake up. But when Parker just burrowed further into Booth's flannel clad chest, Booth found that without even realizing it, he had written six pages about his history with his spirituality, confessing things that he didn't even know he was struggling with._

_Maybe this shit really does work, he thought as he stood up with his son and headed for bed, hoping to catch a couple of hours of sleep before the sun made an appearance._

"What about now, Seeley? What does the third step mean to you now?" Paul asked when he was done with the first part of his story. Looking around the room, he noticed that nobody moved during the first part of his story. Encouraged by the silent support of the relative strangers in the room, he continued with his story.

"About two years ago, my partner asked me about how I can get my faith back after all the things that we see, all the death, all the bad things happening to good people. I told her that the sun comes up tomorrow and that it is a new day. What really surprised me though was when she said that she knew the feeling of getting her faith back too. This coming form the woman who told me that Jesus was essentially a zombie," he said with a smile on his face, chuckling at the shock on the other's faces at Bones' bold statement. "But she said something I'll never forget: she said two plus two equals four, that when she puts sugar in her coffee, it tastes sweet, and that the mysteries in the world will remain beautiful to her. And immediately, I understood the last part of the third step; that this is how she understood Him and accepted Him into her life. So this time when I came to step three, I thought more about G-d in the way that my partner had described than the G-d that I grew up with in the Catholic Church and the one that I still believe in to this day. It just made me think about the influence certain people have had on my life over the last ten years and what I would have given up knowing if I hadn't stopped gambling in the first place," he finished, shocked that he talked that much.

The group was silent for a moment, as if absorbing everything that he said.

"Sounds like a humbling experience," Pam, one of the more experienced members of the group finally said, sounding as if she had been through a similar experience at some point in her recovery.

"Everyday I wake up and get to be around the people I love is," he concluded simply, knowing it sounded corny, but meaning every single word.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: wow, I am completely overwhelmed with the response to the last chapter. Thanks so much. I forgot to thank GreyIsTheCatsPajamas last time for giving her seal of approval to every chapter. If you haven't read her stories, I highly recommend all of them. Enjoy and leave a review! :)

Chapter 2

Month 2: The Limbo in the Lab

"Angela, do you have the facial reconstruction for the latest set of skeletal remains we have been working on?" Brennan asked as she waltzed into her friend's office without knocking. Of course these days, it wasn't like Angela wanted to get up to answer a knock anyway. Now eight moths pregnant, Brennan was fascinated to see first hand the structural changes in her skeletal frame that accompanied this stage of her pregnancy. She intellectually knew what happened to the pelvis and lower back during pregnancy and had seen other pregnant women before but to see each stage of the development. And although Angela kept repeating to not only Brennan but also her husband that her pregnancy was not a science experiment, Brennan still studied her at every chance she got.

But seeing Angela's pregnancy develop and what it did for her and Hodgins also put some dangerous thoughts into her head, thoughts about a baby that had been talked about but never happened. A baby with a man that she voluntarily hadn't seen or spoken to in seven weeks that would have blue eyes, dark brown hair, a scientific mind, and an open heart. Something that would represent the best of both of them, when they were at their finest.

"Yes, sweetie, I have it right here," Angela said with an exasperated tone. Ever since Brennan had informed them that Booth would not be working with them for the next five months and that Dr. Edison would be handling all the FBI cases, things had been a little slow around the lab. The number of cases they had cleared from limbo though had been extraordinary. It seemed that's what the lab was in right now though: limbo. Happily clearing decade old cases but not really working to their full potential on more recent victims. Handing over her latest drawing, she waited for Brennan's response.

"Ange, why did you put a three cornered hat and a body with a Revolutionary War period British uniform on the reconstruction? This is historically inaccurate and could unfairly bias anyone looking at the reconstruction against what the empirical science tell us," Brennan told her, ignoring the frequent eye rolls coming from her friend.

"But it makes him look more handsome, more distinguished," Angela argued, knowing there was no way she was going to win this argument but wanting to rile up her friend up a little bit. Since Booth wasn't around, she sort of felt it was her duty. But at her friend's panicked look, Ange decided to let her win this one. "Besides, Jack already told me that the amount of strontium he found in the teeth could only come from one distinct region of England and since you already determined that he died during the Revolutionary War, I decided to spruce him up a little bit."

Brennan thought for a moment about this. She knew that the members of the squint squad as they had been named, were bored with the new direction their work was taking. Sighing, she decided to allow this small act of rebellion.

"I find that acceptable, for this time," Brennan told her. "But in the future, please make sure that you clear any superfluous detail in the reconstruction with me." Pleased with the smile on Angela's face, she turned to leave the office before being stopped once more.

"Hey, Bren, what are you up to tonight?" Ange innocently asked. "Because if you are not doing anything, I have a friend who I think would be perfect for you. He is exactly your type; smart, intelligent, very good-looking if I do say so myself. I really think you guys would get along great."

Brennan froze for a moment, unsure about Angela's offer. Deciding honestly was always the best policy; she went with her usually blunt response. "I am not interested in having sex with anyone right now, Angela, but thank you for the offer. As you did a couple of years ago, I have decided to be celibate for the next several months. Besides that and that I have a book signing tonight, you know I am in love with Booth. I would find it counter-productive for any future I might have with him to engage in sex with someone whom I do not have the same depth of feelings for."

Brennan was shocked when Angela rushed into her arms, surprised that she could move that fast in her current state. Surprised, Brennan returned the hug, extremely confused and wondering if there was a social cue that she missed that would have clued her into why her best friend was suddenly hugging her.

"Angela, are you okay?" she asked after several moments of what she considered awkward silence.

"Oh, sweetie, I'm so proud of you," Angela said, finally pulling back and trying to subtly wipe her eyes. "I swear, if Booth doesn't sweep you off your feet when you guys start talking again, I will personally kick his ass."

Convinced that it was the increased amount of hormones running through her system that was making her friend so crazy, for lack of a better term, Brennan quickly thanked Angela for the reconstruction and headed back to the safety of her office. The rest of the day passed fairly quickly and soon enough, she was gathering her things so she could run across town for her book signing. Her publisher was thrilled that she had the time to get out and address her adoring public as she put it. Brennan personally didn't see the big deal; her books already sold more copies than she ever dreamt and she didn't need the money. But she understood that it was part of the business and reluctantly agreed to the event.

The bookstore was crowded when she arrived and her publisher immediately escorted her to a table set up in the middle of the store with plenty of copies of her latest book scattered around the table.

"Okay, everyone, please form a line!" her publisher told the crowd. Brennan smirked for a moment as the tiny five-foot nothing woman managed to gather the interest of the entire store. Quickly, the patrons formed the requested line and Brennan was steeling herself for the next couple of hours of signing and smiling.

The first hour went smoothly and she even posed to take a few pictures with the readers of her books.

"Is Agent Lister here tonight, Dr. Brennan?" an older woman asked about an hour into the event.

"Of course not. Andrew Lister is a fictional character that I created for the purposes of these books, just like Dr. Kathy Reichs. It would be impossible for either of them to be here in person," Brennan responded as she finished signing the woman's book, confused as to why she would ask such a question.

"No, I mean that handsome FBI Agent that you solve your real life cases with. You know, the one that you dedicated your second book to," the woman clarified laughing, apparently thinking that Brennan was joking previously.

Brennan smiled sadly for a moment. Over the last seven weeks, things in her daily life constantly reminded her of her partner. In the beginning, it was really hard to not talk to him. She would find herself texting him things that she would normally tell him and just stop herself from sending it to him, erasing the message before she changed her mind and broke their pact. And even though there wasn't a day that went by that she didn't think about him, it was getting better and she was becoming more confident about her role in the lab again, for the first time since even Cam became her boss. Realizing that she hadn't answered the woman yet, she came up with the first thing she could before her publisher stepped in with an elaborate story that explained his absence.

"He's doing paperwork tonight on our latest case. Being in the FBI isn't all about chasing the suspects," she said, happy that the answer seemed to placate the woman.

The rest of the evening passed without further incident and as she drove home that night, she played the CD her dad made her, letting the soothing sounds of 'Keep on Trying' reinforce that what they decided was right, that he was somewhere improving himself like she was improving herself.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you all so much for the response thus far. I am so overwhelmed but very happy. Enjoy and please leave a review!

Chapter 3

Month 3: The Possibilities in the Promotion

Walking out of his meeting and heading back to work, he considered stopping at the diner to get some pie. His stomach was reminding him that even though he went to his meeting, it was still indeed his lunch hour. And the beautiful early September weather just asked for him to walk outside some more. His feet almost headed in that direction but he stopped himself short. No, he reminded himself, the first time he wanted to enjoy the pie in the diner again was when he could enjoy it in the company of his partner. So he doubled back to the Hoover and stopped at a deli to grab a sandwich before heading back to his office.

This was how he spent most of his lunches, holed up in his office, eating while trying not to get any food on the paperwork strewn all over his desk. But as he walked into his office this day, an unexpected guest was sitting in one of the chairs across from his desk.

"Sir? May I ask to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" Booth asked as he walked around to the other side of his desk, dropping his sandwich on the corner of his desk before plopping down in his chair. He quickly scanned his desk to make sure that he didn't have any overdue paperwork that Deputy Director Cullen would be here looking for.

"Booth, cut the crap. And stop looking around your desk; I'm not here for any missing paperwork you may have laying around," Cullen responded in his stern, gruff tone. Booth immediately felt his heart rate start to speed up, not looking forward to what this man had to say. The last time he had been notified he wanted to see him, he had been placed on leave. And more time to sit around and think was the last thing he needed right now.

"Well, what can I do for you today, sir?" Booth asked, again trying not to fidget.

"Booth, how's your partnership with the Jeffersonian coming along? I hear you haven't been working with Dr. Brennan much recently, that she put a request in to not work with the FBI until the end of the year. You want to explain that to me?" Cullen asked and even though it was phrased as a question, Booth knew he did not have a choice in answering.

"Sir, Dr. Brennan felt that she needed to focus more on the needs of the Jeffersonian since she had been gone in Maluku for seven months. And I also felt that I needed to spend more time to running the major crimes division and getting it organized again after my return from Afghanistan. I fully supported her in her decision and assigned some of the junior agents in major crimes to work with Dr. Edison. That way, the FBI still gets their cases solved and some younger agents get the experience they need. In a couple of months, when Dr. Brennan is ready to return to working with the FBI then I will happily join her," he finished, trying to sound convincing. In all honestly, he had no idea if Bones was going to want to be partners again but he knew that he wanted to work with her again.

"Well, Booth, it seems the Bureau has other ideas. You heard that Assistant Director Hacker accepted the position as the Deputy Director of the Los Angeles office, correct?" Booth nodded in the affirmative. He heard about the promotion a couple of weeks ago and was not ashamed to admit that his first thought was how happy he was that the man would no longer be able to make any moves on Bones.

"It's my pleasure to inform you that because of your work as Special Agent In Charge of the Major Crimes Division, you are first in line for the promotion to Assistant Deputy Director," Cullen finished, cracking a rare smile, truly happy for the agent in front of him.

Booth was floored. At his age, just coming off a deployment, to be offered this post was quite an accomplishment. This would mean better pay, more consistent hours, and if he did well in the position, a straight shot to the upper echelon of FBI. But one immediate implication of the post came to the forefront of his mind: if he took the position, he was effectively ending his partnership with Bones, for good. Finally focusing back on Cullen, he knew he needed to tell him some kind of response.

"Sir, I am obviously very flattered by the Bureau's faith in me and the offer is very tempting. But I do need some time to think about it and what it will mean for my future here," Booth told him, knowing it was the appropriate response so that he could have some time to think about it.

Cullen just nodded and Booth exhaled, hoping that Cullen did not know the real reasons why he needed to some time to think about the decision.

"Sounds good, Booth, we don't need your decision for a couple of months yet. Hacker doesn't move out to L.A. until the beginning of next year. Personally, though, I think the Bureau made the right call with this decision," Cullen said as he stood and exited the office. Booth glanced at the clock once he left and knowing that he would not get any more work done today, he grabbed the now cold sandwich and closed up for the day, needing time to think.

The air hadn't cooled off a bit and he shrugged off his suit jacket, holding it under his arm as he started to walk. Before he knew it, he was on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, glad it was past Labor Day weekend and the crowds had dissipated quite a bit. Normally, he would have gone to the Founding Fathers for a drink but ever since he started going to meetings again, he decided that because of his family history, it was time to stop drinking as well. So sipping on the coffee he bought from beside the Reflecting Pool, he sat down on the steps and proceeded to reflect.

When he started at the Bureau, he never wanted to hold any leadership positions, thinking that he would rather fight The Man than be The Man. But as he got a little older, he couldn't deny that the prospect of not working eighteen-hour days running a unit and working as the Jeffersonian liaison was becoming more and more appealing. And since he had no guarantee that Bones wanted to work with him again, it would really be foolish of him not to take the promotion.

But there was a small seed of doubt in his mind. He knew that if there was any chance that Bones wanted to work with him again, that they could go back to being partners, he should turn down the promotion. Working with Bones had been some of the best times of his life and it would kill him to send some other agent to watch her back in the field.

He sighed, watching the sunset against the Washington Monument and truly not knowing what to do. He knew he had some time but he was worried the more time that passed in which he didn't talk to Bones, the more likely it was that starting next year, he would be Assistant Deputy Director Seeley Booth.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Month 4: The Anthropologist in the Conference

"And that is why the more research that is put into the determining of the exact degenerative rate of osteocytes, the more accurately we can determine the age of a skeleton without looking at any other scientific analysis. Thank you," she finished to a rousing round of applause.

Brennan walked off stage with a small grin on her face. She once told Booth that she hated these kinds of things, but that was mostly to make him feel better about keeping her from the conferences. During her time working with the FBI, she really missed this part of her chosen field; engaging in progressive research and discussing provoking scientific theory was one of her reasons she got into forensic anthropology in the first place. And since she was one of the leading minds in her field, she had turned down many invitations to be the keynote speaker for various anthropology conferences. While she did not regret her past decisions (she didn't see the point of having regrets) she couldn't deny how good it felt to be an active member of the community once again. All of her work with the skeletons in limbo had provided excellent publishing opportunities in the preceding months, an opportunity her and her interns had taken advantage of.

Now that her speech was over, concluding the speeches, she went out to the reception area, eager to converse with her colleagues about the information presented at the conference. Grabbing a water bottle before heading out to meet the others, she checked her phone for any missed calls. There was one from her dad but other than that, nothing. Surprisingly, she noticed that her phone bill was much lower ever since her and Booth decided that they were not going to speak to each other for five months.

Walking out into the reception area, she could tell that it was already in full swing. Spirited discussions already dominated the sounds of the room and she was immediately called over to join one.

"Dr. Brennan," she heard, and she noticed that Dr. Sandy Lee, one of the other leading researchers in the field, was motioning her over to her group of people. "Fabulous speech tonight, Dr. Brennan," she continued as Brennan made her way over to the group of four other people that she immediately recognized. "My lab also has been interested in calculating the degenerative rate of osteocytes. Of course, we are not as far along in our research as the Jeffersonian but we hope to have a paper published by the middle of next year."

"Well, not all of us have the resources of the Jeffersonian," another anthropologist joined in from beyond their circle, laughing after his supposed joke.

"If you were intelligent enough to figure it out then it would not matter what resources you had available to you," Brennan said, not understanding when the man walked away with a hurt look on his face. "What? That is the truth," Brennan asked the colleagues still standing with her, most of them with smirks on their faces.

"Nothing, Dr. Brennan, nothing," Dr. Everett Simpson said from beside her. "But in all seriousness, it is so nice to have you at these conferences again. The articles the Jeffersonian has published in the last several months have really given the rest of us something to think about and consider implementing in our own labs. We have already started using the revolutionary skull reassembling techniques you described in your last article. I think I speak for all of us when I say how nice it is that you have finally decided to give up working with the FBI and come back to the true science," he concluded and Brennan was shocked to see that the others in the group were nodding their agreement.

"What, I haven't stopped working with the FBI yet, just taking a break from it, that's all," Brennan responded, concerned at their response. Did people really think that she was wasting her time with the FBI?

"Please, Dr. Brennan, we all knew that was just something you were doing on the side. Just think of the scientific advancements that could be made when you devote yourself fully to the research. I mean, look what your lab has done just recently," Dr. Lee said. "Look how packed this conference is; just the mention that you were going to be the keynote speaker brought people here in droves."

Brennan was torn. She wasn't sure what to think and desperately changed the subject, hoping that she wasn't being too obvious.

"Dr. Simpson, I am eager to talk about the recent advances you have made with determining height using ileus to scapula ratio…"

Thankfully, her duties to the FBI and the forensic anthropology community were not brought up again but Brennan had to admit that the conversation had her shaken. She truly did love her work with the FBI but she also couldn't deny that her work in Maluku and now at the Jeffersonian with the skeletons in limbo had been equally rewarding.

She had to think though: did she want to be partners with Booth or did she just want a coffee type relationship? He told her when they last spoke that she should really consider whether or not she wanted to be partners after the five months but she didn't think the decision would be this hard. She thought that by this time, she would be ready to go back to being the center but instead, she wasn't so sure. Booth was normally the person she talked to during times like these but she didn't dare call him. In the four months they had been apart, he didn't contact her once and she knew she had to do the same.

Angela told her once that 'coffee' usually meant 'sex', something that she wanted eventually with Booth. But would it have the same meaning if they weren't partners anymore, if they only saw each other during arranged dates?

This is why she hated psychology.

Needing to get her mind off of things, she considered going out and walking around the town. After all, it wasn't often that she was in New York City, even more reason for her to attend the conference. But the evenings were getting cooler as Halloween approached and one look outside convinced her to stay inside. So, she turned on her laptop and pulled up the manuscript of her next novel. Her publisher had been thrilled with the time she had taken to do the book signings and with her regular updates. At this rate, her next novel would be completed by Thanksgiving and possibly in stores by Christmas, something that would undoubtedly help the sales of the book.

But after writing a couple of pages and realizing it was complete crap, she deleted it and a sigh of frustration she opened up the story she wrote when Booth was in his coma. She didn't know what inspired her to write it but after Booth had woken up, she pressed the 'undo' button in her word processor that un-erased what she wrote and saved the document, just in case Booth really never remembered who she was. Even though it was completely counter-productive, part of her wanted this with Booth.

Reading through this though, their fictional, happy life together, also made the part of her that was scared of having this serious of a relationship with him scream out in terror.

Looking at the calendar in the toolbar of her MacBook, she closed her eyes when she realized it was October 23, just a month and a week before she was supposed to see Booth again and decide where they stood. She had some serious thinking to do, and fast, because right now, she had no idea what she wanted to do.

It was a good thing that according to Booth, thinking fast was her specialty.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Month 5: The Baby Duck in the Dark

"Dr. Sweets? Are you listening?"

The young man sat up straight, knowing the body language that would indicate someone was paying attention. Even if that someone was lost in their own thoughts.

"Of course, Agent Pendrell, I realize that that situation must have been very stressful for you. Could you elaborate on what you were feeling when the situation occurred?" Sweets asked, not knowing what the agent was talking about but figuring the generic response would work. When the agent's face expressed relief and he kept talking, Sweets knew he had said the right thing and thankfully went back to his own musings.

It had been almost five months since he had a session with his favorite clients, Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan. In fact, it had been just that long since he had talked to either of them individually. While his FBI work kept him very busy and Booth and Brennan were never his only clients, they were his favorite. Their non-sexual marriage was fascinating to him, so much so that he wrote a worthless book about them. But unfortunately, this meant that he also had a front row seat to the complete disintegration of their partnership, something he desperately wanted to talk to them about.

Especially since he heard that Booth accepted the position as the Assistant Deputy Director of the FBI, replacing the leaving Hacker.

He was not only shocked that Booth would accept the position but he was also shocked that he had not gotten a call from Dr. Brennan accusing Booth of abandoning her, especially with her history. In the back of his mind, he couldn't help but wonder if they were not talking to him anymore because of the slight push he gave Booth when they were discussing his book. Well, maybe it was more than a slight push.

Well, it was the Tuesday before Thanksgiving and he was determined to track down Booth before the holiday. Catching the clock out of the corner of his eye, he saw that his last session of the day was finally over.

"Well, Agent Pendrell, I think we really covered a lot of ground today but this session is over. See you next week?" Sweets confirmed, seeing the agent nod and leave his office. The second he left, Sweets was on his feet, packing up his things, deciding to make it seem like he was accidently running into Booth on the way out of the office for the day. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he walked out of his office and went in search of Agent Booth.

He didn't have to look far, finding Agent Booth speaking to some other agents in the break room, grabbing some coffee. He watched this interaction for a minute, fascinated by the way the younger agents responded to him. Booth was always a people person, always knew how to make people feel comfortable but Sweets had observed that he never really fit in in the Bureau environment, preferring to spend his time at the Jeffersonian. But ever since he got back from Afghanistan and spent all of his time in the Major Crimes division, Sweets had been hearing around the grapevine that the younger agents really respected their new leader. Even now, if Sweets did not know that one of these men was a superior, he would have thought that all three of these men worked alongside each other in the bullpen. When one of the younger agents turned around and spotted him, Sweets sprung into action, trying to appear casual in walking in like he hadn't been there the entire time. The other two agents politely made their excuses and left, leaving him and Booth in the room.

"So, Sweets, what do you want to talk to me about?" Booth asked before taking a sip of his coffee and Sweets could hear the mirth in his voice. Sweets silently cursed at being caught but decided to try and play it as innocently as possible.

"Nothing, Agent Booth. I just came by to grab some coffee for the drive home," Sweets told him, desperately wanting to say more but still trying to act cool.

"So how have you been, Sweets? It's been awhile since we have had one of our sessions," Booth said and for a second, Sweets thought his method worked. Until he looked into Booth' eyes and clearly saw that the other man was just humoring him. Sighing at not being as good as he thought he was, he answered the question anyway.

"I'm doing well, Agent Booth, thanks for asking. I'm getting a lot of time to research other ways to help agents with stress on the job and Daisy and I are doing great. In fact, I'm on my way over to the Jeffersonian right now to pick her up. What about you? I heard you got offered the job of Assistant Deputy Director," Sweets said, still trying to use all of his interrogating techniques to try and get information. Although he didn't know why; Booth was the one who taught him most of these tricks.

"I was offered that position," Booth said, still sipping at his coffee and leaning back against the counter near the fridge.

"Are you going to accept?" Sweets finally asked, giving up the failed air of innocence and expressing his curiosity about his decision. He could find out anything in the Bureau by listening but for some reason, nobody would tell him anything about whether or not Booth accepted. And he as well as anyone else knew that if Booth accepted the bump up the ladder, his title as the Jeffersonian liaison would disappear as well.

"You know, Sweets, I've thought about it a lot over the last couple of months and I have decided that I would be a fool not to take it," Booth told him, as he dumped another packet of sugar into his coffee.

So that's it then, Sweets thought. The infamous Booth-Brennan partnership has ended. While he was thinking of what this all meant, standing there dumbfounded, he didn't realize that Booth walked past him and out the door of the break room. Once Sweets realized that he was the only one there and he was going to be late picking up his girlfriend, he hurried out toward the elevators, still lost in thought about the ending of what he considered an era.

"Hey, Sweets," he heard from across the hall as he elevators door opened. Booth was leaning around the corner of the hallway. "If you see Bones while you are at the lab, could you tell her to meet me at the diner on December 1 at noon? I have something important I need to tell her."

Sweets desperately wanted to ask more but the elevator dinged and by the time he turned back to where Booth was standing, he was gone. Sighing, he walked into the open elevator and headed down to the parking garage.

Twenty minutes later, he walked into the Jeffersonian, curious to see how the lab was doing. Since Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan had stopped working together, he had not worked with Dr. Edison and the various junior agents like he did before. Because of that, Daisy had remained his only connection to the lab and since she had been finishing up the Maluku Project, this was the first time that she had been back in the rotation, as he liked to call it.

"Lance-a-lot!" he heard from the forensic platform, looking up the stairs to see his exuberant girlfriend and Dr. Edison, rolling his eyes and walking away for a moment. "Give me ten minutes and I'll be ready to go," she said, snapping off her gloves and running down the steps before he could answer her.

Sweets just nodded at her and went off in search of Dr. Brennan, seeing her in her office, seemingly gathering her things. Knocking on the open door, he was happy to see her greet him with a smile.

"Hello, Dr. Sweets," she said, giving him eye contact for a moment before going back to putting some of her papers in a bag.

"Dr. Brennan, how have you been doing? Going somewhere?" he asked, stepping into the office, just beyond the door. He knew that even if he tried to be subtler about getting information, he knew it wouldn't work with Dr. Brennan. The scientist was too smart and too blunt to go for that.

"I am headed to a conference in Quebec over the Thanksgiving holiday. I have been offered the fantastic opportunity to tour the Laboratoire de sciences judiciaires et de méde- cine légale, or the Jeffersonian equivalent in the Canadian justice system. They have invited me to go up there several times a year to help them develop a structure similar to what we have here," she told him, not looking up from her papers once but he could hear the excitement in her voice about this opportunity.

"Are you going to do it?" he asked her, curious to see if Booth and Brennan independently came to the decision to move on to other things.

"Of course I am going to do it. As a leading member of the forensic anthropology community, I feel that it is my duty to help other facilities strive for higher standards so that victims can get the appropriate justice no matter what section of the world they are in," she told him, finally looking at him as she grabbed her coat and bag and walked towards to where he was by the entrance of her office.

"I'm happy for you, Dr. Brennan," he told her, really meaning it. "I guess that means that you heard that Agent Booth has accepted a promotion to Assistant Deputy Director of the D.C. branch." But right as Sweets said it, he knew from the surprise on her face that it was news to her.

"I hadn't heard that but good for him. The Bureau was right in choosing someone with obvious skill for the job," she said, pausing for a moment.

"Well, when you think about it, it's not like you could have continued your partnership anyway, what with you going up to Canada every month or so to help them out. I'm glad you've both moved on to bigger and better things," Sweets continued, trying to convince himself that the dissolution of their partnership was for the better.

"Everything changes, Dr. Sweets. That is the nature of evolution. If you'll excuse me, I have a plane to catch," she said and walked right past him in her typical Brennan fashion.

"Oh, Dr. Brennan, one more thing," he remembered, jogging to catch up with her before she walked out of the sliding glass doors of the lab. "Booth said to meet him at the diner, December 1 at noon. He said he had something important to tell you."

Brennan smiled for a moment before just giving him a curt nod and walking out of the lab.

Walking out of the lab, hand in hand with Daisy, Sweets wanted nothing more than to figure out how to be in the diner December 1 at noon without Booth and Brennan knowing so he could witness the official end of their partnership.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: So, folks, we have come to the end of this story. Thank you so much for your interest and support. And even though I woke up this morning sick, I couldn't leave you all hanging. So leave a review and make me feel better! :) Thanks again to GreyIsTheCatsPajamas for giving me her feedback and seal of approval before I post. Without further ado, enjoy the reunion.

Chapter 6

December 1: The Meeting in the Car

Booth sat in his car with the heat turned up, still bundled in his long coat. As he sat and watched the first snow fall of the season, he remembered how five months ago when he was walking out of the Jeffersonian after Nigel-Murray's memorial service, he thought about on that warm June day how it would be winter when he saw or talked to his partner next. Now it was winter, and sure enough, he was waiting to meet his partner. He was surprised that both of them stuck to it because he felt like he was a completely different person right now than he was five months ago.

He was addiction free, that pesky itching feeling had not been back in four months, he was still attending meetings everyday, he was seeing his son every weekend, and he was able to sleep through the night at least five times during the week, something he had not been able to do since he got back from Afghanistan. He still had lots of things to work on. After talking to his old friend Hank Lutrell, he suggested that he go see the therapist he used after he rehabbed, said he was a vet himself who really knew how to counsel people fresh from the warzone. Booth wasn't sure about it just yet, not really comfortable with the idea of talking to a shrink. But it was good to know that he had some additional resources available if he needed them in the future.

The fact that he was sitting in his car though, not wanting to be the first one inside the diner, at 12:01, probably meant he still had some things to work out.

Through the snow falling, he looked through the windows of the diner, scanning the crowd and seeing if Bones was already there. Sweets told him that he talked to Bones but Booth still didn't know if she would actually show up today. He hoped she would, he was really excited and anxious to see her. If these last five months taught him anything, it was that somewhere over the last seven years, Bones had become his best friend. And not the way that little kids pronounced that they had best friends. He would see things and want to call her just to tell her about it or he would do something that would instantly remind him of Bones. That was something he was looking forward to having again and even if their partnership was over, he was going to insist that they at least met for coffee.

But when it was quarter past the hour and he still didn't see her through the window of the diner, his heart sank a little bit. Could it be that she really just did not want to see him anymore? Sighing, he knew that if that were her choice, then he would respect her decision. Of course, that might mean telling Parker that Bones had permanently accepted that position he told him she took in Burma…

Deciding there was no point in sitting in the cold car anymore when he had a perfectly warm office he could be sitting in, he put his hand on the keys that were still in the ignition and almost turned the keys when he saw a blue Prius parked two cars up from where his car was sitting. Squinting, a smile spread across his face when he noticed that she was sitting in the front seat, doing essentially the same thing he was right now.

* * *

Brennan looked out of the window of her car and turned the heat up, having gotten here fifteen minutes before their prearranged meeting time. For the last week and a half, she had been steeling herself for the news that Booth had taken the promotion that Sweets told her about without consulting her first. A wave of sadness spread through her at the thought of him deciding to end their partnership without even consulting her. And this time apart showed her that her partnership with Booth was one of the most valuable things in her life.

She was sad because she missed her partner and also sad because she knew this is what Booth must have felt like when she didn't consult him before deciding to join the Maluku expedition. It pained her to think that the hurt she was feeling right now was something she inflicted on another person, nevertheless someone she loved.

She couldn't deny though that she enjoyed her work expanding the field of forensic anthropology in their hiatus. Her trip to Quebec confirmed the fact that she made the right decision in regards to her new consulting position, even if there was a certain French Canadian detective who she thought was Neanderthal in his thinking. But the whole time she was there, she couldn't help thinking that Detective Andrew Ryan was probably a lot like Booth was in the beginning of their partnership. It made her smile, thinking how far he had come in their time together, so much so that she fell in love with him.

Looking at the clock on her dashboard, she saw that it was 12:01, one minute past the time he was supposed to meet her. And looking outside the window of her car into the windows of the diner, her heart broke a little more when he wasn't there. She considered calling him, making sure he wasn't stuck in a meeting but she knew if that were the case, he would have contacted her, no matter their previous agreement. So the only conclusion she could draw was that he decided not to come.

Sighing, she gripped the keys that were still in her ignition, getting ready to head back to the Jeffersonian and the inevitable questions that Angela would have for her when she arrived sans Booth.

A knock on her passenger side window stopped her movement and simultaneously made her jump in her seat.

"Bones! Unlock the door, it's freezing out here!"

Without thinking, she automatically did what her partner asked, a flutter of excitement going through her at the sound of the nickname she hadn't heard in five months. She couldn't help the smile that spread across her face when Booth climbed in her car and started to run his hands through his hair, trying to shake off the snow flakes that had landed there in his short time outside.

He looked good, she thought as she examined him, mentally comparing him to when she last saw him in her office. The dark circles under his eyes were completely gone, he had put a little more weight on his muscular frame, and even though it was not scientifically verifiable, he looked more peaceful. Brennan hoped that he would see these same changes in her, without the weight gain part, of course. Impulsively, she reached over her center console as he was still settling in the seat and wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling more content than she had in five months instantly. And for a moment, when he wrapped her in his embrace and held on just as tight as she was, she felt like everything was going to be okay.

But a minute later, when he pulled back, doubt filled her mind again and she was nervous about what their next conversation would bring.

"Geez, Bones, I can't tell you how good it feels to see you again," he told her, gracing her with his charm smile. She couldn't tear her eyes away from him, trying to memorize all of his features.

"You too, Booth. I find that now that these five months are done, I am apprehensive about spending any more time without any contact from you," she told him, blushing slightly at her admission. But when he grabbed her hand, seemingly unwilling to be without physical contact with her, her nerves increased tenfold. As a scientist, she rationally knew that entropy and evolution guaranteed that change was evitable; she told Booth as much when they were ice staking. But as a woman and a person, she was hoping that they could go back to being what they were before they corrected Sweets on his book, before he asked her to take a chance on him and she turned him down flat.

The silence in the car was deafening but the tension was so thick that it was metaphorically getting hard to breath.

"So, maybe we should talk about the mastodon in the car," Brennan finally said, frowning when her statement elicited a chuckle from Booth.

"Elephant, Bones, its elephant in the room," Booth told her.

"What does it matter what species it is, Booth. Sweets told me you accepted a promotion to Assistant Deputy Director of the D.C. branch," she came right out and said, truly curious about if it was true. And when he let go of her hand, her heart sank.

"I was offered the promotion, yes, but I haven't accepted it yet. I told Sweets that I would be a fool not to take the promotion, not that I took it. I wanted to talk to you first. I have until the end of the week to give Cullen an answer," he told her not looking at her.

"But you want to take it," she guessed, already knowing the answer.

He was silent for a moment before finally looking into her eyes. "Yeah, I want to take it," he said and at seeing the hurt in her eyes, he desperately continued. "I loved being your partner, Bones. But this promotion means a significant pay raise and more consistent hours, both of which I could use to help Parker. When I went over to Afghanistan and saw how much my boy had grown in the time I was gone, I knew that I needed to be around him more often, especially since he is going to be a teenager in a couple of years."

"I accept your logic and reasoning," Brennan told him when he was finished talking. But even though his reasons made perfect sense, it didn't mean that she wasn't still sad. "Truthfully, I have accepted a consulting position with the Jeffersonian equivalent in Quebec. In these last five months, I have done a lot of work within the field of forensic anthropology and found immense satisfaction in being a full time researcher."

"I'm happy for you, Bones. I was hoping you would find something else too. I thought about it long and hard and was really surprised that I felt relieved when Cullen offered me this position. It kind of felt like a renewal, you know?" he told her and she could tell that he truly meant it, the smile finally reaching his eyes.

"Was there really any chance that we could be partners again after that night or were we just kidding ourselves?" she asked him. He shifted in his seat and she could tell that he really, really wanted to fidget right now. So she did what she never would have done this time last year: she reached out and grabbed his hand, trying to comfort him with her presence alone, knowing that this worked in the past but unsure of herself now.

* * *

When he felt her grab his hand, he found the strength to tell her the truth, silently reciting the serenity prayer.

"I really wanted us to be just partners again but in reality, I resented you so much for throwing away what I had been looking forward to and imagining for two years. We did a good job of pretending there for a little bit Bones, but it was over the minute we got the copies of Sweets' book," he said, not looking away from her eyes, surprised to see that she agreed with everything he said. She looked away from him for a moment, looking at the people hurrying out of the snow and into their car or various store fronts.

"So what happens now, Bones? I'm sure that big brain of yours has thought about fifty steps ahead," he asked her, feeling a lot of the tension suddenly released, like the lid had been opened on a pressure cooker.

"Do you want to get coffee?" she asked with a small, insecure smile. Booth just stared at her for a moment, mesmerized by the deep blue of her eyes.

"Is that all we are now? Just coffee?" he asked with a small smile of his own.

"I think that we could be more, someday," she said, tightening her grip on his hand and he gently ran his thumb across her knuckles. "But I think coffee is an appropriate beginning."

He let loose his charm smile on her, truly happy right now with the direction his life was heading, for the first time in a long time. There would be time to talk about where their five months apart had taken them and where their future was going. But right now, coffee sounded perfect.

"And pie too?" he asked, opening the car door and getting out of the car, bundling up against the cold weather. Her responding laugh was music to his ears and he felt her thread her arm with his.

"Booth, you know I don't like my fruit cooked," she said, pressing herself closer to his warm body. Accommodating her and making him content at the same time, he threw his arm around her shoulders and tucked her into his side.

"I don't know, Bones. A lot has changed in the past year. And as I told you a couple of years ago, everything happens eventually," he said as they walked across the street to the diner.

"Then maybe you should get two forks with your pie today," she told him as they entered the warmth of the diner, heading directly for their table, but instead of sitting across the table from each other, sat side by side, excited to be with their best friend again.


End file.
